by Judith Leger
lifted a brow in question. “This armor was worn by your
ancestor. He defeated the most powerful of the dragons
while wearing it. Do you, by any chance, know his name?”
With a shake of his head, Paladin turned back to the
chest. He found gauntlets, helm, and leg armor along with a
pair of lace-up boots. All the pieces appeared like they would
fit him. “I do not care to know his name.”
“You should.”
Ren’s quiet comment brought Paladin’s attention to him
once more. “What do you mean?”
Dark hair glinted in the light as the wizard shrugged.
“Five thousand years ago, many great dragons lost to this
warrior. During the war, a young white dragon, the new clan
leader, witnessed the prowess of the warrior. She fell in love
with him. But she was a dragon. Dragons and humans could
never have a life together. They despised each other, yet this
white dragon loved a human.”
“Do you expect me to believe what you say? I have
studied extensively, and this is the first I have ever heard any
of what you say.” Paladin, thoughts of the armor along with
rescuing Seren pushing to the front of his mind, wanted to
leave.
“This was five thousand years ago, some tales are lost
with time. When I found the newly revealed haven, I
discovered the journals of the men and women who lived
there. These were left behind after peace came to the land.
All of what I’ve told you is written in these books. Even this
warrior wrote of his experiences with the dragons.”
“But history...”
Ren frowned and shook his head. “History sometimes
does not tell the entire truth. The humans want to forget that
at one time the dragons almost destroyed them. When the
dragons made the pact with the humans and bestowed their
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blood on certain ones, the human memories retained those,
but not of what happened before. Thus, the history taught to
you.” Before Paladin could respond, Ren continued. “The
white dragon’s name was Lior.”
No. Impossible. Once again Ren captured Paladin’s
attention. The wizard had to be wrong. Lior, love a human?
Never! Paladin stared at Ren. He swallowed, smoothing the
sudden dryness in his throat to make way for his question.
“My clan’s Lior?”
Ren inclined his head. “She made a wish to transform
into a woman’s shape. Her wish came true, so at certain
times of the annual, she would turn into a woman so she
might be with the warrior. He, not knowing her true form,
came to love her in the same fashion.
“When the warrior discovered the truth, he was appalled,
devastated. He had fallen in love with one of his mortal
enemies. Not long afterward, the war ended. The dragon’s
blood was bestowed by Lior upon the warrior. He returned
home and married. After many years, he realized something
was wrong with him. He stayed young, watching his wives
and children, even his grandchildren grow old and die, all
the while he remained the same.”
Lifting a brow, Paladin, curious now, asked, “This is in
the journals?”
“He bestowed the throne on one of his great grandsons.
He departed and arrived here. For a short time, he tarried in
hopes of discovering what was wrong with him. Thus more
journals. Unable to find any help, he went to Lior,
determined to force her to tell him the truth.”
“What did he find?”
The wizard grinned, “That Lior was very crafty in the
binding of her blood. This warrior would remain as he is
until the day she no longer exists”
Amazed, Paladin starred at him, Ren’s words echoing
inside him. “She’s still alive. Did he discover a way to break
the spell, or...” He glared at Ren, realizing the wizard had
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craftily led him on the path he desired. Ren lifted one side of
his mouth in a half smile while he waited. “What is his
name?”
“Bask.”
Legs weakened at the mention of the wizard, Paladin
fought to remain steady on his feet. Bask, the guardian
wizard who watched and tended to the great white dragon,
Lior? The same long ago warrior, lost with the passage of
time? “How can that be? He’d have to be...”
“Over five thousand years old?”
Nodding, Paladin looked at the armor.
“Because of a dragon’s love, he exists. They are happy.”
Shocked at this information, Paladin stood silent for
several moments. Thoughts twirled in his mind while he
tried to accept what Ren told him. He glanced at the wizard.
“Are you suggesting I go to Bask for help?”
A black brow arched over Ren’s left eye. “Not suggesting.
It is to your advantage to have the knowledge he possesses to
fight and defeat your enemy. Dragons have buried deep in
their hearts a need to destroy and conquer, most of this is
aimed at humans. Arcane has thrived over the years on this
desire.
“Lior had only one egg laying shortly before she fell in
love with Bask. Arcane is one of those hatchlings. The others
were all tracked down and destroyed.”
The information was not new to Paladin. Largin said
much the same during their stay in Bae. Paladin nodded. “So
Arcane knows of the war between the humans and the
dragons.”
“He was alive when this was happening. Yes. He’s learned
from the dragon’s mistakes. In turn, you will learn from
Bask’s mistakes and victories. This will give the one true
dragon king time to be born and grow. The dragons
bestowed their magic and wisdom upon your child. We now
have to give the babe the time he needs to mature so he may
take control.”
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With a grunt of disgust, Paladin gathered up the armor.
“Meanwhile, we have to fight the rogues to keep the peace.”
Ren shifted and stared at Paladin. “We can assume that
Arcane has waited, watching during the last five thousand
years. He’s had time to witness the humans and dragons
living in peace, side-by-side. His anger must be immense
enough for him to hunger for revenge. Humans no longer
feared the power of dragons would be used against them.
What better time to attack than at that moment to reveal
Arcane’s true might?”
“So he planned this?”
With a shrug, Ren continued, “Lior has the ability to see
the future. I have little doubt that she witnessed the harm
this son of hers would cause, so she spoke freely to the other
great dragons about what to do. They, too, remember the
battles and losses of the war. They do not desire to return to
those times. However, the exiled rogue dragons listen only to
what Arcane tells them. Many do not remember the battles,
but some do and their resentment is strong. Arcane is using
this to his a
dvantage. More and more rogues are choosing
him as their leader.
“Lior must have seen the birth of your son, the one true
dragon king. The guardian wizard to the blue dragon
informed me that she told the others what would occur. They
joined together to find the right vessel for the king and they
succeeded. The off-worlder suited their purposes.”
“I don’t care to be manipulated in this fashion,” Paladin
said, heart pounding against his chest. He ran a finger over
the smooth lip of the armor’s neck.
“Manipulated? No, my friend, assisted is a more
appropriate word. The great clan leaders want peace to
continue. So do you. Your child will be powerful, but he will
also know the true hearts of the dragons, the evil, and the
good. His wisdom will benefit all the inhabitants of Avaris.”
Ren stepped to Paladin’s side and handed him a cloth
sack. The soft material slid over Paladin’s finger tips. He
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pulled the drawstring mouth open and put the armor inside.
After he finished, he tugged the strings tight.
He lifted his gaze to meet the wizard’s. “I want the
journals. I don’t have the time to return to Bask and learn his
secrets. Seren needs me.”
“They’re in my library. You are welcome to them. After
all, they are part of your heritage.”
Without hesitating, Paladin turned toward the door.
Eager to not only leave the compound, but to begin his
journey, he strode out of the room, a driving need to see and
hold Seren pressing on his heart.
Once they returned to the house, Paladin stopped in the
doorway of the study. “What of Calis?”
Ren’s shoulders straightened. He looked over the top of
his left shoulder to where Leo stood in the hallway. “Calis is
an idiot. This one had sense to know he would be spotted if
he followed, but the other one charged after them. He was
wounded during the attack. He did not even wait for his
wounds to heal, so I know not if he lives or is dead.
Ungrateful wretch.”
“How did he leave?”
“I suppose on a merchant ship similar to your own. Many
stop here and then go on to the White Dragon realm.”
Without a word, glad Calis lived, Paladin waited while
Ren collected the ancient books. When they were bound in a
cloth sack, Paladin looked at Ren. “I thank you for this. With
hope, everything you’ve given me will bring success to what I
must do.”
The wizard reached into his pocket and removed two
palm-sized polished stones. He held one in each hand while
he said an incantation, his lips moving in silence. Once he
finished, he handed the stones to Paladin, explaining. “Take
these and place one in the center of your ship. Keep the other
with you at all times. They are cloaking stones. No one will
be able to search and find your location once they are in
place. When you reach your kingdom, you will need this to
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hide you.”
Without another word, Paladin clasped Ren and Leo’s
forearms in farewell. He departed the compound,
determination to rescue Seren overriding all else in his mind.
He’d caused all her suffering on this planet, and he swore he
would put an end to it. He’d promised to keep her safe. He
always kept his oaths.
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Chapter Twenty
The white dragon realm, with its icy snowdrifts amid
staggering frozen peaks, drew nearer with each passing
second. After giving an order not to be disturbed, Paladin
shut his cabin door and became immersed in the journals.
The words, written in ancient script, sprang to life from the
pages. Many times, he had to rise from his seat and go to the
deck above to calm his racing heart.
The hundreds of battles written of on the yellowed sheets
left devastation and ruined lives in all areas of Avaris. The
cries of those ancient souls rang out from the books. They
tore at him. During those days, dragons tormented and
devoured every human they came into contact with. Paladin
breathed a thankful sigh he had not been born at that time.
When he had completed all the unknown authors’ thin
books, and only Bask’s journals remained, he locked his
door. He called upon his courage and opened one of the
many journals his ancestor had penned. From the first
moment, Bask’s anger along with his unquenchable thirst for
revenge permeated each page. His entire family had been
murdered by the mighty white dragon, Ziane, Lior’s father.
Bask swore vengeance against the beast.
Throughout each of the books, Bask detailed instructions
on the ambush and defeat of many lower-level dragons, but
Paladin found nothing explaining how to defeat a dragon
leader within the power spectrum of Arcane. Then in the fifth
journal, Paladin discovered what he searched for—the battle
between Bask and Lior’s father.
Dark smears marred the edges of these papers. He passed
a finger over one. Blotches of blood. Bask’s blood. The defeat
had caused Bask grievous wounds, but had not taken from
his overall joy of obtaining his revenge.
The wizard wrote that he had defeated Lior’s father at the
dimming of the day. The sol sinking on the horizon and
before the Solrai moons ascended, he had delivered the
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killing wound. Earlier, when Paladin had scanned through
the other journals, he had noticed that the men and women
living during those turbulent times had mentioned the same
thing. He had found a pattern. One man repeated many
times that the best time to attack an adult was at their
magic’s weakest moment of the day.
Paladin leaned back in his chair. He concentrated on his
own teachings and what he had discovered in these books.
Magic was at its weakest with the setting and rising of the
sol, and the ascending and declining of the moons. With a
slow grin, he scraped his chair back and rose.
Moments later, he stood on the deck of his ship, staring at
the Solrai moons. In a few days, the moons would disappear
behind the sol’s shadow. At this time, only a small sliver of
the second moon would be seen. Magic across the planet
would grow quiet at the risings and settings. It’d happened in
the past.
He grinned, excitement building in his mind. He turned
to his helmsman. “Burn more dragon stones. Leave only
enough for the return trip to Durfalin. I want to make
landfall to the north of Xelerdin before two settings have
passed.”
He faced northeast and stared. His need to be with Seren,
to touch her, to hold her against his heart increased. Paladin
squeezed his eyes shut. His spine tingled and blood boiled.
Traces of hope waned as each second passed. His gut
clenched at the thought of losing Seren. What w
as happening
to her? His thoughts tumbled around in his mind like rocks
crashing against a shore, battering its coast hard, leaving him
with an aching head like never before. When he opened his
eyes, he swore that once he held her in his arms again, he
would never release her.
* * * *
Xelerdin’s jagged fjords crept into the sea at the base of a
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fir-laden mountain range. Craggy, staggered peaks cascaded
behind, covering the icy land. Sharp, the frigid air sliced
through clothing. Darkness swept over the land, broken here
and there by the reflection of the moon’s slight crescent and
starlight.
Cloudy vapors enveloped Paladin’s head as the ship
glided low over the glassy surface of the water to the
secluded dock sitting in a virtually unknown section of the
white dragon kingdom. Once the ship neared, the crew
lowered the docking plank. The dull thud pulsed through his
body. Paladin, a bulging pack strapped to his back, strode
down the wide beam to step on the wooden dock. Ice coating
the dock crunched and cracked under his weight. The sailors
pulled the plank back aboard. The ship departed with
instructions to return to Ren Murdock.
Two aged men, dressed alike in matching pale blue robes,
the hems pooling around their feet, approached from the
cedars growing along the edges of the small clearing
surrounding the dock. Only their sleeveless over tunics
differed. The man on the right wore red while the other wore
navy. Each carried a staff tipped with a pure white stone.
Weather-beaten faces remained expressionless while their
frigid blue eyes focused on him. Silvered hair, long and
pulled back on the crowns of their heads, hung in an intricate
weave of braids down their backs.
The Carilon twins, Cie and Rie moved closer. Powerful
wizards and long time friends to his father, their appearance
sparked Paladin’s curiosity. He assumed they were part of
the royal court, serving his brother.
Out of respect, he touched the first two fingers of each
hand together and gave them a stiff, low bow in the manner
expected from a younger member of their clan.
The first of the two, Cie, inclined his head in
acknowledgment. “You have returned.”
Paladin straightened. “I come seeking what was stolen
from me.”
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